


5 O'Clock Meeting

by marchingjaybird



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Plug, Ass Play, Blackwatch Moira O'Deorain, Dom Moira O'Deorain, Established Relationship, F/F, Kinktober 2019, Light BDSM, Spanking, Sub Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-08
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-11-27 20:04:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20954150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marchingjaybird/pseuds/marchingjaybird
Summary: They haven’t been doing this long, a few weeks perhaps, and already Angela wonders how she structured her day without it.  It had started over drinks, with Angela trying to get to know Blackwatch’s new doctor, to assess her commitment to the men and women that Angela had been trying so hard to keep alive.  Moira had watched her from across the table, her eyes eating Angela up, and they had ended up in bed together that night, and every night since.Angela has a standing 5 o'clock meeting with the new Blackwatch doctor.





	5 O'Clock Meeting

**Author's Note:**

> Week two of Kinktober! This was supposed to be an OtaYuri orgasm control fic, but that one was giving me trouble and I will never get enough of writing kinky f/f stuff, so Moicy it is.
> 
> Thank you very much to Brittany, who beta'd this one for me! <3

Her hand comes down hard on Angela’s unprotected flesh, and Angela whimpers softly. Long fingers spread and stretch across the meat of her ass, gripping tightly for a moment before delivering another sharp slap. The sound of it echoes through the lab and Angela’s eyes dart nervously to the door. No one is supposed to disturb Moira’s research, but what if there is an emergency? What if there’s some new intern who doesn’t know the rules yet? She’s brought these concerns up but Moira only smiles that angular, mysterious smile and tells her not to worry and the door remains terrifyingly unlocked.

The first ten blows are delivered as always, slow and methodical, hard enough to redden her ass and warm her up for the rest of what Moira has in store for her. It varies from day to day, but the first ten are always the same, one for each hour they’ve been apart. It’s supposed to remind her of her place, a thought which always sends a little thrill of lust snaking through her belly.

Angela counts to herself, breathing out slowly as Moira reaches ten and her hand stills, resting gently on Angela’s hip. They aren’t done, not yet, but this is a brief reprieve. Her ass stings, the skin hot and tingling as she rests her cheek against the cool metal of the examination table. Moira strokes her, the curve of her hip, her tightly pressed together thighs, and claw-like nails beat a tattoo against red skin.

“Have you been behaving today, Doctor Ziegler?” she asks.

“Yes sir,” Angela says. Moira’s nails dig into her stinging skin and she cries out, hips pushing back. Moira laughs softly.

“Good girl,” she says. “Hips up.” And Angela obeys, arching her back and pushing her ass into the air. She is shivering, a little from the chill air of Moira’s lab but mostly out of eager anticipation.

They haven’t been doing this long, a few weeks perhaps, and already Angela wonders how she structured her day without it. It had started over drinks, with Angela trying to get to know Blackwatch’s new doctor, to assess her commitment to the men and women that Angela had been trying so hard to keep alive. Moira had watched her from across the table, her eyes eating Angela up, and they had ended up in bed together that night, and every night since.

It was Angela who proposed the rules, noticing how Moira liked to control, how her eyes seemed to glow with eager lust whenever Angela behaved in a submissive way. They’d come up with the list together, suggesting and negotiating until they were both happy with it. So far, it’s been a rousing success.

Angela goes to work at 7, making sure to wear one of the ridiculous lacy thongs that Moira had her buy. She goes about her day, tending to patients, doing her research, only pausing at noon to send Moira a picture. Sometimes it’s Angela in the bathroom, shirt unbuttoned to bare her breasts. Sometimes it’s a quick upskirt. Once it was a photo of her fingering herself, which Moira had very much enjoyed punishing her for, as had been Angela’s objective all along. She likes to toe the line, to see how much she can get away with. It’s exciting, knowing that she has this entire secret life.

By far the best part, however, is when she takes a break at 5 and heads across the building for her daily conference with Doctor O’Deorain. She hurries, flicking through her notes, murmuring to herself, looking as busy as possible so that no one will stop her. Moira’s lab is always five degrees cooler than the rest of the building and dimly lit, though Angela suspects that both of those are affectations to set the mood.

Every day, she slips inside. Every day, she carefully strips down to her bra and panties. And every day, she climbs up onto the examination table and waits for Moira to have time to deal with her.

“I liked the picture you sent today,” Moira says, stroking Angela’s thighs. Her fingers are cold and Angela shivers, closing her eyes.

“Thank you,” she breathes and then Moira is spanking her again, fast and hard, and Angela cries out in surprise and pain. Instinctively, she tries to rise but Moira’s free hand clamps onto the back of her neck and holds her where she is, ass in the air, thighs shaking with the effort of holding herself up. 

Moira strikes her so fast and so hard that Angela doesn’t have time to count the blows. She can only sob and squirm and scream and beg Moira to stop, though they both know it’s all part of it. If she truly wants the spanking to end, she has a safeword; Moira often brings her to the brink of using it, but they’ve never crossed that threshold, and they don’t today either. Moira stops just as Angela is certain she can’t take anymore, and her cold fingers drag teasingly across tender skin.

“Would you like to try that again, my dear?” Moira says. Angela takes a moment to catch her breath, and when she speaks her voice is shaky with pain and arousal in equal measure.

“Thank you, mistress,” she says. Moira makes a soft, pleased sound and then cool lips are pressing against her inflamed skin and Moira is peeling down her thong. She leaves it around Angela’s knees, a flimsy sort of restraint, and Angela gasps sharply as one of Moira’s long fingers drags along the cleft of her pussy.

“Enjoying ourselves, are we?” Moira teases, pushing the tips of two fingers just barely inside Angela. They slip in easily and Angela whimpers. She is incredibly, impossibly wet and the slow circular motion of Moira’s fingertips inside her threatens to overload her senses completely. She pushes back as much as she dares and earns herself a stinging slap.

“Sorry, mistress,” she says immediately, and Moira laughs. Her fingertips drag up, leaving Angela’s pussy to press against her ass. Angela gasps as they circle her hole, one finger pushing past the tight ring of muscle and sliding in up to the second knuckle. Blessedly, they are the fingers on which Moira keeps her nails relatively short; Angela does not like to imagine how it would feel to have the others inside her, talon-tipped as they are.

“My pretty slut,” Moira purrs, withdrawing the finger. Angela hears Moira open something and then her fingers are back, covered in slick and slowly working their way into Angela’s ass. She moans freely now, cheeks burning with arousal and embarrassment. They have discussed this before and Angela had expressed interest when Moira brought it up, but she never thought she would be displayed like this on an exam table, ass in the air while Moira’s long fingers thrust slowly in and out. It’s so much, almost _too_ much.

Moira’s fingers delve deep inside her, scissoring and twisting to open her up. Angela can only close her eyes and cry out softly when a third finger joins the others, stretching her wider than she’s ever been before. Moira keeps up a steady stream of soft praise and reassurance, her other hand resting lightly on the small of Angela’s back. Her knees are beginning to ache and her thighs won’t stop trembling, but the thought of disappointing Moira by dropping her stance horrifies her. She is dazed, floating in a warm haze of pain and pleasure, and Moira is her only anchor to the real world.

Finally, slowly, the fingers withdraw and Angela is left alone and empty. She whimpers softly and Moira shushes her, the hand that was on her back slipping up to tangle in her thick blonde hair. “I’m here,” Moira says, pulling Angela’s head back slightly. It’s enough to ground her and she exhales slowly.

“Good girl,” Moira croons. “Such a good girl. Are you ready?” Something hard presses against Angela’s ass and she gasps. Whatever it is, it is slick and smooth and ice cold, and Moira presses it into her slowly, fucking it back and forth to stretch her further, and as it slips inside Angela realizes that it is a metal plug. Tears leap into her eyes and she moans, pushing back against the flared plug, trembling as it opens her up further and further.

And then the widest part slips inside and she lets out all the air in her lungs in a loud _whoosh_. Moira strokes her thighs, the still burning cheeks of her ass, tells her that she is a good girl as her ass closes around the base of the plug, and Angela shifts, testing how it feels. The plug is heavy inside her, a strange intrusion that fills her up but leaves her wanting more.

“Sit up, my dear,” Moira says, offering her an arm. Gingerly, mindful of her sore skin and stiff muscles, Angela sits back until she is kneeling on the exam table. Moira reaches down, tests that the plug is firmly inside her, and then motions for her to get off the table. Biting her lip, Angela obeys.

Her legs are nearly numb and she stumbles against Moira, wrapping her arms around the other woman’s thin frame. Moira cradles her close, tips her head back, and for a moment they only stare at each other. Angela’s cheeks are red and tears drip from her eyes unnoticed; she always cries when Moira spanks her, though it is less because of the physical pain and more from the overwhelming emotion that it wakes in her.

Moira kisses her gently, tongue sweeping possessively into Angela’s mouth as she tugs Angela’s panties back into place. Outwardly Moira is cool and collected, but Angela can see the ravenous light in her eyes and it sends an anticipatory shiver down her spine.

“Get dressed,” Moira says. Her hand slips down Angela’s back, tracing the curve of her spine and resting finally on her tender ass. Angela whimpers and presses herself tighter against Moira, knowing what is coming next. The plug is heavy inside her, big enough that she feels full but not so big that she doesn’t crave more. Moira smiles down at her, cruel and doting. “I’ll see you tonight after dinner.”


End file.
